


The Art of Drowning

by SilasSolarius



Category: Drake & Josh
Genre: Episode: s04e11 Josh is Done, M/M, Poor Drake, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:52:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4010077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilasSolarius/pseuds/SilasSolarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: During JoshisDone! AU After being attacked on his way home from a gig with his band, Drake changes drastically. Can his family figure out why he's changed and save him from drowning in the darkness threatening to pull him under? Or will another save him before they even get the chance?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

 

"Great show, Dray!" Trevor exclaimed excitedly and Drake smiled at his friend, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. This had been their biggest gig yet and although the argument with Josh still weighed heavily on his heart, for those few moments he'd been on stage, it had all drifted away.

 

Scottie grinned, his green eyes twinkling merrily. "Hey, we're all going to my place to celebrate. Wanna come?"

 

The auburn haired teen glanced down at his watch and cursed, shaking his head. He had promised his mom that he'd be home before midnight and it was already 11:43. The walk home would take him at least a fifteen minutes so if he started now, he'd be able to make curfew.

 

"Nah, man. I'm good. See you guys later."

 

"Later, Dray." His friends replied.

 

Flashing them one last smile he hefted his guitar case up over his shoulder and started his trek home, unaware of the horrors the night held for him.

 

The further he walked the darker it seemed to get and not for the first time he cursed himself for not asking Scottie or Trevor for a ride. Just as he turned to go down the next street a large rough hand grabbed his arm and pulled him into a nearby alley.

 

He stumbled, his slender frame hitting the ground as his assailant let go of him and he frowned.

 

"Hey, what's the big idea?!" He cried out indignantly, climbing to his feet only to find himself trapped. Three men stood at the mouth of the alley, watching him with cold beady eyes.

 

The first was a tall, lithely muscled man with icy blue eyes, long blond hair and glimmering pale skin. A dark smirk danced on his lips sending trills of terror down Drake's spine although he fought to hide it.

 

The second was a large muscular man with cruel green eyes and a shaved head, wearing a smirk not unlike that of the first man.

 

The last however, set off alarms in Drake's head that turned the trills of terror into full blown panic.

 

He was huge, far more muscular than his companions, with cropped inky black hair and empty black eyes that seemed to lead straight into the pits of hell. His lips were thin and chapped, and they curled into a mocking sneer as he stepped forward.

 

He was obviously the leader.

 

"Well, well, well. Looky here boys. The pretty boy thinks he's tough." He jeered and Drake swallowed raising his hands in an attempt to placate them.

 

"H-hey guys. I-I don't want any trouble. I'm j-just trying t-to get home." He stammered gasping as the leader backhanded him harshly then too hold of his face in a bruising grip.

 

"Too bad, punk. Ya picked the wrong night to come through. Ya see we're all a bit antsy an' yer too pretty ta just kill."

 

Drake tried to shake his head, struggling to get away from the men as he realized exactly what they planned to do to him.

 

He was backhanded once more for his troubles and the leader chuckled, then shoved him forward for his cohorts.

 

"Careful boys. Wouldn't wanna damage such a pretty face."

 

A fist met his gut, then his ribs courtesy of the blond man and he cried out, coughing as he was hit again. He struggled and tried to fight back as fists and feet rained down him but after what seemed like hours he didn't have the energy to fight anymore and he curled in on himself trying to protect his main organs. As he did so his assailants slowed and soon the attacks until they came to a stop and Drake clenched his eyes shut hoping they were finished.

 

"He really is a beautiful creature." The blond commented silkily and the Leader gave a hum of agreement before leaning down and yanking Drake's face up so he could meet his eyes. Then he smirked.

 

"James, hold him down."

 

The silent bald man's hands pinned him to the ground, hands over his head and the teen started to struggle anew.

 

'Nononononononono!' He thought, jerking frantically in the man's iron clad grip, heart racing as the blond ripped away his pants and boxers.

 

A sharp pain shot through him moments later making him feel as he were being torn apart at his most intimate place and he screamed. The raven haired man growled at the sound and forced himself into Drake's mouth, choking him.

 

For what must've been hours they violated him, ignoring his pleas for death and his broken sobs. They took turns enjoying his agony, his fear, until finally he fell silent and slipped into blissful unconsciousness. The final thought that crossed his shattered mind was, 'I'm sorry mom. I broke my promise.

 

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Audery Nichols nee Parker was worried. Extremely worried.

Her son Drake had promised to be home by midnight and had text her a quarter to twelve to let him know he was on his way home, yet here it was nearly six am and he wasn't home.

Drake, no matter how many times he broke curfew never stayed out passed one, and he always called her if he was late or staying with a friend for the night.

She bit her lip, brow furrowing as she moved throughout the kitchen to prepare breakfast, even though everyone else wouldn't awaken until it neared eight.

Where was her son?

The sound of a key eing turned in the lock reached her ears and relief flooded her veins followed quickly by anger and she stormed into the sitting room to prepared to yell at him. His appearance stopped her cold.

"Oh my- Drake!" She gasped, tears welling in her eyes as he hand came up to cover her mouth.

Her baby looked terrible.

Dirt clung to his normally pale skin and his clothes, dry blood caking the side of his head. Bruises mottled his face and every visible peice of his skin, his clothing torn as if he'd been jumped and mugged. His eyes, however, his eyes were the most devastating part of his appearance. The narmally lively honey brown orbs had a dull lifeless look in them that made them seem a lackluster murky gold color. Upon hearing those hollow eyes glanced up at her and their owner gave her an apologetic smile that didn't meet them.

"I'm sorry."

"W-What? What happened to you Drake? Are you okay?"

"I broke my promise." He replied sadly but his eyes, those cold broken hues didn't change.

Audrey's breath hitched and she waited for him to respond to her other question but he didn't. Instead he turned away from her and stumbled up the stais leaving her to stare worriedly after him.

Just what had happened to her baby boy?

Her eyes caught on a small patch of blood staining the back of her son's pants and dread pooled in her stomach.

And why did she have the feeling that whatever it was...would break her heart?

* * *

 

He had to get clean.

He had to get clean.

He had to get clean.

The mantra ran through his mind in a steady monotone as he staggered up the stairs, stoically ignoring the agonizing pain in his lower body and the throbbing of the various bruises marring his frame.

He couldn't think about  _that_.

He wouldn't dare.

As silently as possible, he slipped into the bedroom he shared with Josh, grabbed some clean underwear and pajamas, then rushed into the adjoining bathroom and locked the door. Then he turned the shower on as high as it would go, she his clothes and stepped into the scalding spray.

For a moment he merely stood there gazing blankly at the wall, feeling the phantom touches weaken, then the cloying feeling of dirt clinging to his skin overwhelmed him and he began to scrub himself vigorously, his mask of stoicism shattering.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, mingling with the hot water and silent sobs left his throat causing his sore throat to sting with a vengeance. He sobbed and screamed in silence until he barely had the energy to calm down. Once he was sure he was calm once more, he climbed out of the shower, shut off the water and got dressed, shoving his soiled clothing to the very bottom of the hamper.

Then he sluggishly dragged himself to his bed, curled under his blankets in a fetal position and cried himself to sleep for the first time in a very long time.

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The first thing Josh noticed when he awakened was the shivering lump in Drake's bed and the tuft of dark red hair peeking from the top of the blankets.

So, he decided to come home after all? After worrying their parents to the point where Audrey had nearly called the police to file a missing persons report. Sneering at the sleeping singer, he stood, ready to storm over to him and give him a piece of his mind, only to shake his head.

He was done.

Of course, he'd been done with Drake for nearly three days now, but he was still upset that the older male had made their mother worry as she had. He was so selfish and it pissed him off to see the other sleeping soundly after what he had done. Sending the older boy's sleeping form one more glare, Josh turned away resolutely and left the room, missing the dull lackluster gold gaze that followed him from the room.

* * *

Once Josh was gone, Drake sat up stoically, ignoring the dull ache of his multiple injuries and the sharp pain from his back had only been able to sleep for an hour before the memories of the night before had assaulted his mind and forced him from sleep's tenacious grasp. When he'd awakened he had curled up into a fetal position under his blankets, memories and phantom sensations haunting him until he'd seen Josh awaken. He was almost tempted to call the boy back into the room and apologize and beg him to make it stop but he didn't. Instead he stared at the door his brother- no, Josh had left through, replaying the cold glare the boy had shot him in his mind. He must know how dirty he was, how worthless and filthy he was.

Josh was right to be done with him.

He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself, trying to keep his mind from drifting back to memories of the night now he could feel the memories dancing on the edge of his conscious, threatening to overwhelm him.

He needed a distraction, something to keep it all away.

Music?

His dull gaze moved to his guitar where it sat pristine in its case and he flinched, remembering the harsh thud of the case hitting the ground before they-

No. No music.

He glanced around, trying to find anything that wouldn't remind him of ... _that._ Then his gaze landed on the textbook sitting untouched on his desk.

Homework. It was something neutral, something safe. It had no connections to  _that_ , none. It was safe.

In slow, halted movements he got to his feet and stumbled from his bed to take a seat at his desk. For a moment, he merely stared at the papers and the books, remembering a time when he was younger when he had actually enjoyed books. When they had been his escape from his fathers harsh words and bruising fists and his mother's working late. And now, almost five years later, he was finding himself in the position of using books as his escape again. It was almost surreal.

He shook his head and opened the first textbook in front of him and got to work, letting everything around him slip away.

* * *

Drake was studying.

Megan blinked and stared at her brother in shock.

Like Josh, she had been extremely angry when Drake had missed curfew and sent their mother into a panicked frenzy. She'd spent the better part of the night trying to comfort her and the rest of the night arguing with Josh about Drake's possible whereabouts. Josh seemed to be under the impression that Drake had gone out to a party with his band but Megan had immediately dismissed the idea. Drake had promised mom that he'd be back before curfew and he knew better than to break such a promise. Instead, she had argued that his show had run longer than he'd expected and he'd lost track of time. Josh had merely scoffed and rolled his eyes, before going to bed.

When she'd awakened that morning she'd taken one look at her mother's worried face and frowned.

"Drake's still not back?" She'd asked and her mother had sent her a smile full of relief and concern.

"No, no, he came back this morning." She frowned, glancing up as Josh and Walter entered the room. Walter had frowned when he saw that Drake wasn't present at the breakfast table.

"Drake still hasn't come home?" He asked worriedly and Josh's face twisted into a sneer that made Megan's hackles rise.

"He came home." He replied. "He's upstairs sleeping."

Audrey frowned at him in warning before turning to Megan. "Go wake him for breakfast. Tell him that he can go back to sleep after he eats."

Which led Megan to the sight in front of her.

Drake was sitting at his desk with one of his textbooks spread open in front of him while he wrote diligently in one of his many spirals. He seemed completely focused on his task, so much so that he was unaware of her presence in the room. He worked with a single minded focus that she'd only ever seem in Josh during exam week and it was slightly worrying.

"Drake," She called.

He didn't respond, instead he continued to work as if he hadn't heard her.

"Drake," She called again.

No response.

Scowling she stormed over to him and grabbed his shoulder roughly.

He spun around flinching away from her violently and she stared at him in shock.

He stared back, murky amber eyes wide and full of fear, which he quickly hid.

"Megan." He greeted and she frowned deeper.

"What the hell was that?"

"Watch your mouth." He chastised.

"What the  _hell_  was that?" She repeated and he shrugged, turning back to his work.

"Did you need something?"

The girl's eyes narrowed but she dropped the subject, remembering the true reason she had been sent up to his room.

"Mom said to come eat breakfast."

He didn't turn.

"Not hungry."

She glared at him.

"It wasn't an option, boob."

One of the lack luster topaz hues shifted to look at her and she forced herself not to shiver at the emptiness in their stare. She'd never seen Drake so lifeless. He was always cheerful and full of life a smile always playing on the edges of his lips even if he couldn't recall why. Seeing him so emotionless hurt more than she cared to admit.

Silently, he stood and closed the book and the journal. Then he staggered over to her, one arm wrapped precariously around his middle.

"I'm not hungry." He repeated softly, but he followed he down the stairs and into the kitchen anyways. When they entered the room, Josh immediately glared at him while Audrey watched him with concern bright in her eyes.

"Drake, honey, how'd you sleep."

"Fine." He intoned and Megan shivered again watching as their mother placed a plate full of food in front of the singer who shook his head and stood.

"'m not hungry." He murmured apologetically before turning and leaving the room.

The youngest of the Nichols-Parker family stared after him narrow eyed. Something had happened in those hours Drake had been missing and she feared that it was nothing good.

**TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Understanding by Evanescence

**Chapter Four**

Trevor was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. He wasn't a genius, not even close, but he wasn't stupid either. In addition to this, he also knew Drake better than anyone in the world, including his mother. He knew about the abuse the younger had suffered during their childhood, and knew how he had coped and as he entered his best friend's bedroom to find him at his desk _studying_ , his heart stilled in his chest.

Drake hated school, a byproduct of being picked on in their elementary years. Drake had been the nerd, the smartest kid in class…but he hated school. To him it was an escape from the hell that his father created with his harsh words and harsher fists. After Audrey had discovered the beatings and his father had been sent to jail, Drake let his grades slip, no longer wanting to wear the geek label and by middle school he was one of the most popular kids in school and skating by on a D+ average.

That Drake was studying meant something was wrong. Something he didn't want to think about.

"Dray?"

The other musician jolted and looked up with wide listless eyes.

Trevor fought a shiver.

In all his years of knowing the other boy he'd never seen him so lifeless.

"Yes?"

"You're studying." He pointed out, knowing that Drake would catch his meaning. Murky honey brown eyes glanced at the work before them then slid back to meet his worried green.

"Why are you here?"

Trevor narrowed his eyes. "You scheduled band practice for today, remember? Ms.P sent me up to get you since we've been waiting for ten minutes."

"Oh." Drake responded softly, closing his book and standing.

His clothing only made it more obvious that something was wrong. Drake hated baggy clothes, yet he was clad in loose-fitting sweats and a loose long sleeved t-shirt, his hands barely visible beyond the sleeves. In fact, looking closely, the shirt was one of his that he'd left over during their most recent sleepover two months previous.

"Yes, 'oh'. Have you written anything?"

Drake grabbed his guitar case, his entire frame oddly tense.

"Yes."

Raising a skeptic brow, the older teen followed his friend from the room, and down the stairs pondering just what was causing the changes in his friend…and how he could change it.

As they entered the Parker-Nichols family garage, their other bandmates, Donnie and Scottie, frowned at them, fully set up and ready to go.

"Drake, what the hell man? We've been waiting for fifteen minutes and you're normally the first one set up." Donnie scolded, shoving a strand of his messy dark hair behind his ear.

Their band leader didn't reply, instead removing his guitar frm it's case with strangely hesitant movements. Scottie's frowned deepened, full of worry.

"Dray? Hey, man you alright?" He placed a hand on one of the younger teen's slim shoulder only for the boy to pull away with a dark glare and a snarl.

"Don't touch me!"

The three stared at their youngest wide-eyed. Drake was the most touch-friendly person in their group, always leaning on one of them as they chilled after practices or resting his foot in one of their laps, a product of the childhood he hid from most. That he was denying it at the moment was extremely worrying. His sleeve slipped just a bit giving them a glimpse of the fresh day bruising on his wrists, only a few days old.

Trevor's eyes narrowed into a dark glare and he shared a look with the remaining members of their group.

Many often forgot just how violent the three could be, some didn't even know that the three had bonded with Drake over their shared pasts.

Someone had hurt their friend, and Walter better hope it wasn't him because they would let Drake have another abusive father.

"Get ready." The order was softly spoken, so unlike it usually jubilant counterpart but they obeyed, readying their instruments.

Drake nodded with a slight quirk to his lips and placed the new sheet of music in front of them and they began to play, fighting a shudder at they produced. This song, they realized, was a result of whatever had happened to their friend.

_**Can't wash it all away** _

_**Can't wish it all away** _

_**Can't hope it all away** _

_**Can't cry it all away** _

_**The pain that grips you, the fear that binds you** _

_**Releases life in me** _

_**In our mutual shame, we hide our eyes** _

_**To blind them from the truth** _

_**That finds a way from who we are** _

He was speaking of his past they realized. Of his fear of becoming his abusive father and of the shame the abuse evoked in him. But there was something else. Something deeper hidden in the emotions in his voice.

_**Please don't be afraid** _   
_**When the darkness fades away** _   
_**The dawn will break the silence** _   
_**Screaming in our hearts** _

_**My love for you still grows** _   
_**This I do for you** _   
_**Before I try to fight the truth my final time** _

Still speaking of his father it seemed, but the words were something each of them could understand. None of them had had very upstanding fathers, Drake's being the worst of them all, and yet they still loved them.

_**Can't wash it all away** _   
_**Can't wish it all away** _   
_**Can't cry it all away** _   
_**Can't scratch it all away** _

_**Lying beside you** _   
_**Listening to you breathe** _   
_**The life that flows inside of you** _   
_**Burns inside of me** _

_**Hold and speak to me** _   
_**Of love without a sound** _   
_**Tell me you will live through this** _   
_**And I will die for you** _

_**Cast me not away** _   
_**Say you'll be with me** _   
_**For I know I cannot** _   
_**Bear it all alone** _

As they continued to play they found themselves contemplating the meaning behind the last verse, for while the beginning of the song had touched on the past, the two phrases following had been about the perfect lover he yearned for ad the women he used to fill the space and hide his preferences from his family, especially Josh. The last phrase however was directed at someone unknown to them, most likely the cause of their friend's torment.

They chanced a glance at the lyricist.

He was crying silently as he sang.

_**Can't fight it all away** _   
_**Can't hope it all away** _   
_**Can't scream it all away** _   
_**It just won't fade away, No** _

The music sped up slightly and his voice became stronger and more impassioned.

_**Can't wash it all away** _   
_**Can't wish it all away** _   
_**Can't cry it all away** _   
_**Can't scratch it all away** _

_**(Can't fight it all away)** _   
_**(Can't hope it all away)** _   
_**Can't scream it all away** _   
_**Ooh, it all away** _   
_**Ooh, it all away** _

The music began to fade and they swallowed thickly.

No something deeper was going on, something Drake was desperately trying to escape, yet found himself incapable of not thinking about.

They thought of his earlier reaction to Scottie and the glimpse of dark bruises on porcelain skin and didn't like the picture it painted.

Drake 's eyes slid open, still wet with tears that fell in crystal rivets down his cheeks, the lackluster gold darkened with humiliation and a soul crushing pain.

No, they didn't like it at all.

**TBC…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Alrighty folks, the issue with my USB has been dealt with for the most part and I have started on rewrites of my unposted stories. However, I am trying to focus on finishing on my WIPs so it may be a moment before I post any new stories. This being said, however, feel free to follow me on Tumblr under the same name Silas Solarius (Claw06)


	5. Chapter 5

****

**Chapter Five**

Walter wasn't sure what he'd expected when he came home, but it wasn't to be cornered by Drake's band members in his own garage, each boy wearing a dark expression. They looked dangerously similar to the delinquents they were often accused of being and for the first time since he met them, he found himself genuinely concerned for his safety.

"Boys? Late band practice?"

Trevor, the eldest of the three, and by far the largest, sneered at him, prowling forward like a beast nearing its prey.

"Drake has bruises, Walter." He rumbled, and Walter frowned deeply, concern welling in his chest for his eldest son.

Drake not be his biologically, but he loved him all the same. The question was, what did Drake and bruises have to do with him being cornered in his own- oh. Oh god, _No._

They thought _he'd_ given Drake those bruises.

Audrey had never spoken of her first husband, at least not in detail, but he did know that the man was currently serving a life-time bid in prison and that he was the reason for Drake's initial distrust in him. Relating those facts with the conclusion these three boys, _Drake's best friend's_ , had jumped to about him at the first sight of bruises on the musician, it didn't paint a pretty picture and he knew he'd have to play this carefully if he wanted to escape this.

"Boys, I would never hurt Drake. I don't care what you think of me, but that is a fact."

Trevor stared at him for moment, keen eyes observing him carefully before he relaxed signaling for the other boys to do the same.

"Be glad that I believe you, Mr. P. I would've hated to cause Drake to lose another father. He seems to like you. C'mon, Donnie, Scott."

Walter stared after them, stunned and partially terrified at Trevor's words, not because he had wanted to hurt Drake, but because the words weren't a threat.

They were a promise.

* * *

Linda Hayfer would be the first to admit that she was a bit biased towards students in her class, particularly Drake Parker.

Drake Parker, the sweet, shy little boy she'd taught only ten years previous at Bellevue elementary. The little genius, who studied as hard as he could so that he could please the adults in his life. Who had dreamt of becoming a musician so that his music could save lives.

He'd once been her favorite.

Then he changed.

His father suddenly out of the picture, he began to act out, his grades dropping and staying at a constant d average provided he was at school. He flirted with everything that walked (including her _daughter_ ), and was absent for school far more often than he was present.

The sweet genius she'd taught so many years ago was gone, replaced by a delinquent driving himself into an early grade and she hated it, so she hated him.

Staring at the perfectly written essay in front of her…she couldn't find that hate anymore.

In fact, in the past two months, her (least) favorite student had been handing in work on par with his kindergarten self and higher, seemingly devoid of the spark that had fueled him. He was present in every class, and shied away from any and all touch, behavior she was intimately familiar with. God, she hoped she was wrong, but something about the words in his paper, the _topic_ he'd chosen for his paper pointed her in that direction. Placing the paper back on her desk, she glanced at her students and vowed to keep him after class to get to the bottom of things.

All the while the introduction to the teen's paper wreaked havoc in her mind.

_Coping, many think it is a way to forget what it is one has to cope with in the first place, but the human mind is a funny place. It rejects things it finds too shameful to be thought about, but the imprint remains and with it the need to cope. Too bad coping can be just as painful._

What was her student trying to cope with, and why, _why_ did she keep seeing her own broken blue eyes behind his empty amber ones?

* * *

"Drake, please remain after class."

Drake glanced up from the book in front of him, steadily ignoring Josh's burning gaze as it bore into the back of his head. What had he done wrong?

Since… _that_ night, he'd been the perfect student, unwilling to taint the world's view of him but adding delinquent to the black stain on his body. He'd already been ruined, but the least he could do was save others from the same fate.

Meeting Mrs. Hayfer's eyes for a fleeting moment he nodded, knowing that by the time he left her classroom, Josh would be gone and he would be forced to walk home. The younger boy seemed to have little patience for him as of late and it wouldn't be the first time the boy had done so.

Maybe he knew of Drake's shame and didn't want to be near him.

Drake shivered and wrapped an arm around his torso, forcing his gaze back to his book.

No more thinking. Just… no.

He read in silence, hardly noticing the bell as it rang and the retreat if his classmates as they followed. He only came to when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder.

His skin crawled and he jerked away, wild eyed.

"Don't touch me!"

Mrs. Hayfer stared at him, blue eyes slowly filling with tears and he looked away from her, tightening his grip around his torso as he tried to hold himself together.

"Please," He whispered. "Don't touch me."

She nodded and took a seat in the chair he'd just noticed she'd brought from her desk.

"Drake, despite all of our differences, I care immensely for all of my students. Please tell me…is someone hurting you?"

He shook his head, tensing. "N-No. No! I'm fine."

Her eyes held a knowing look in the and she placed his essay in front of him and stood.

"No you're not." She responded softy before she walked away leaving him to stared blankly at the essay, more specifically the bold red 'A+' staining the paper like blood.

No, he really wasn't.

A small listless smile curled the corner of his lips even as tears burned his throat.

He really, really wasn't.

**TBC…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Mrs. Nichols?"

Audrey Nichols smiled kindly at her sons' teacher as she was invited into the woman's office. She hadn't been expecting it when the woman had called her, especially since Drake had begun to excel in his classes again. Her eldest had stopped skipping school to hang with girls and causing in trouble in general. Instead he spent most of his time studying diligently, his grades higher than they'd been in years and yet…all she could feel was worry.

Drake was a smart child, practically a genius, but her ex-husband had made it to where he saw his intellect and creativity only as a means to escape. He hid it behind this- this mask of delinquency and she allowed it, even as she knew it was wrong, but he was her baby. His pain meant more to her than the social norms of society.

She found herself questioning whether Walter was the cause of these changes, even as her heart rebelled against the thought, stating that he'd never hurt Drake. She'd thought the same thing about her ex-husband.

"Please come in."

She followed the blond into the office taking a seat in one of the two chairs in front of her desk, dread and worry sitting like lead in her gut.

"Linda?"

The elder woman gave a heavy sigh and sat in the chair on the other side of the desk and picked up an essay.

"Audrey, Drake is perhaps one of the brightest young men I have ever met and while normally I would be calling you here about his academics, it's actually his mental state I am most concerned with today."

She paused, staring down at the document in her hands with sadness and _understanding_ in her eyes.

"Last week, I assigned an essay to the class on the meaning and importance of coping and what situations could lead to needing to cope. Drake's essay, while very well-written, was…concerning. I highlighted the places of most note."

She handed the paper to the worried mother, who's breath caught as she read the words of her eldest son.

_Coping, many think it is a way to forget what it is you have to cope with in the first place, but the human mind is a funny place. It rejects things it finds too shameful to be thought about, but the imprint remains and with it the need to cope. Too bad coping can be just as painful._

_Coping is when you force yourself to wake up and breathe when all you want is for everything to stop. When your try to deal with the nightmares that run rampant throughout the night when all you want is to fall into a dreamless sleep and never wake up._

_You don't cope for yourselves, however. You cope for those around you. You cope to keep the worry out of your loved ones' eyes and the pain of knowing from those that are ignorant. It hurts and it's painful, but it works._

_Certain situations are hard to cope with and even harder to move past._

_It can be anything from a child living with the hatred and anger of a parent, or killing someone for the first time, to a woman living in terror of having her body and stability violated, these things don't go away._

_They never go away._

_And while coping may help many things, it will never be able to help that._

It was a short essay, only a page long and yet she felt her heart leap into her throat. The emotion in it was so real.

This was how her baby _felt_.

But what was he coping with?

And why was he hiding it from her?

A blood red 'A+' stood out on the top of the essay, taunting her with its meaning and her stomach churned as she looked up to meet worried blue eyes.

"What are we gonna do?" She whispered, and Linda gave her a small but reassuring smile.

"First, we need to talk to him. Then, depending on the severity of the situation we can get him help, perhaps weekly counseling sessions in my office." Nodding she glanced back down at the paper in her hands.

She could only hope the counseling sessions would help.

If not, she feared she would lose her little boy and she didn't know if she could handle that.

*/*

How could this be happening?

Haunted amber stared down at the letter in their owner's hands, wide and full of terror. Normally steady hands trembled, fleshy pink lips bitten by straight white teeth as thoughts raced through a broken mind.

How could life be so fucking cruel as to allow this, when he still hadn't recovered from _The Incident_?

Why was this happening?

And what had he done to deserve it?

A choked sob left his throat as the letter fell from his hands and fluttered to the ground, the letters and familiar handwriting taunting him.

_Hello Little Dragon,_

_Years have passed since you had me thrown in prison, and yet the anger I feel for you is stronger than ever, countered only by my love for you. I know what they did to you, and I have taken care of it._

_See you soon,_

_Father_

He knew.

He _knew,_ and he was furious.

His lungs burned from lack of air, his heart racing as he sobbed and screamed, the silence in the room deafening.

Darkness slowly encroached upon his vision, and he was thankful when it swept him into its embrace.

Worse, he felt only slightly guilty for wishing that it would keep him there.

***/***

Cold blue eyes stared at the five men before them with rage in his gaze.

How dare they touch his child!

He hated Drake Parker, hated him with a fury that would surprise most, including his ex-wife. Yet, the only thing that came close to the hatred he felt for his son was the love he held for him.

His son was both his greatest accomplishment and his ultimate failure.

As a child, the boy had been willful, his intellect and creativity obvious to anyone that met him, spoke to him and yet the child was almost painfully shy.

He hated weakness, and despite his will, the boy was nearly as weak as they came, unwilling to fight for the simple thought he'd hurt someone.

Weak.

Unacceptable for the heir to the largest criminal empire in the world.

Darrius Parker, or Dragon, as he was known, was the most feared crime Lord in the world. He couldn't afford to be weak, nor could his heir.

He'd tried to teach the boy, but his wife had sent him to prison for it.

A snarl crossed his lips and one of his captives whimpered in fear of the expression, drawing him from his darkening thought.

First, he would take care of the trash that had hurt his son...then he was getting his children back.

His wife, and their son would live to regret the day they sent him to that hell. He would make sure of it.

**TBC...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am aware that Drake's father's reasoning is a bit screwed up, but in HIS defense they make sense to him. Crazy doesn't exactly make sense...


End file.
